FORZA AZZURRI!!
Monday, June 26, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
For My People
This is one of the most powerful poems I've ever read. It was written by Margaret Walker in 1942. It's a bit long, but stay with it till the end. Take your time and take it in.
For my people everywhere singing their slave songs repeatedly: their dirges and their ditties and their blues and jubilees, praying their prayers nightly to an unknown god, bending their knees humbly to an unseen power;
For my people lending their strength to the years, to the gone years and the nowyears and the maybe years, washing ironing cooking scrubbing sewing mending hoeing plowing digging planting pruning patching dragging along never gaining never reaping never knowing and never understanding;
For my playmates in the clay and dust and sand of Alabama backyards playing baptizing and preaching and doctor and jail and soldier and school and mama and cooking and playhouse and concert and store and hair and Miss Choomby and company;
For the cramped bewildered years we went to school to learn to know the reasons why and the answers to and the people who and the places where and the days when, in memory of the bitter hours when we discovered we were black and poor and small and different and nobody cared and nobody wondered and nobody understood;
For the boys and girls who grew in spite of these thing to be man and woman, to laugh and dance and sing and play and drink their wine and religion and success, to marry their playmates and bear children and then die of consumption and anemia and lynching;
For my people thronging 47th Street in Chicago and Lenox Avenue in New York and Rampart Street in New Orleans, lost disinherited dispossessed and happy people filling the cabarets and taverns and other people's pockets needing bread and shoes and milk and land and money and something-something all our own;
For my people walking blindly spreading joy, losing time being lazy, sleeping when hungry, shouting when burdened, drinking when hopeless, tied and shackled and tangled among ourselves by the unseen creatures who tower over us omnisciently and laugh;
For my people blundering and groping and floundering in the dark of churches and schools and clubs and societies, associations and councils and committees and conventions, distressed and disturbed and deceived and devoured by money-hungry glory-craving leeches, preyed on by facile forces of state and fad and novelty, by false prophet and holy believer;
For my people standing trying to fashion a better way from confusion, from hypocrisy and misunderstanding, trying to fashion a world that will hold all the people, all the faces, all the adams and eves and their countless generations;
Let a new earth rise. Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace by written in the sky. Let a second generation full of courage issue forth; let a people loving freedom come to growth. Let a beauty full of healing and strength of final clenching by the pulsing in our spirits and our blood. Let the martial songs by written, let the dirges disappear. Let a race of men now rise and take control.
For my people lending their strength to the years, to the gone years and the nowyears and the maybe years, washing ironing cooking scrubbing sewing mending hoeing plowing digging planting pruning patching dragging along never gaining never reaping never knowing and never understanding;
For my playmates in the clay and dust and sand of Alabama backyards playing baptizing and preaching and doctor and jail and soldier and school and mama and cooking and playhouse and concert and store and hair and Miss Choomby and company;
For the cramped bewildered years we went to school to learn to know the reasons why and the answers to and the people who and the places where and the days when, in memory of the bitter hours when we discovered we were black and poor and small and different and nobody cared and nobody wondered and nobody understood;
For the boys and girls who grew in spite of these thing to be man and woman, to laugh and dance and sing and play and drink their wine and religion and success, to marry their playmates and bear children and then die of consumption and anemia and lynching;
For my people thronging 47th Street in Chicago and Lenox Avenue in New York and Rampart Street in New Orleans, lost disinherited dispossessed and happy people filling the cabarets and taverns and other people's pockets needing bread and shoes and milk and land and money and something-something all our own;
For my people walking blindly spreading joy, losing time being lazy, sleeping when hungry, shouting when burdened, drinking when hopeless, tied and shackled and tangled among ourselves by the unseen creatures who tower over us omnisciently and laugh;
For my people blundering and groping and floundering in the dark of churches and schools and clubs and societies, associations and councils and committees and conventions, distressed and disturbed and deceived and devoured by money-hungry glory-craving leeches, preyed on by facile forces of state and fad and novelty, by false prophet and holy believer;
For my people standing trying to fashion a better way from confusion, from hypocrisy and misunderstanding, trying to fashion a world that will hold all the people, all the faces, all the adams and eves and their countless generations;
Let a new earth rise. Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace by written in the sky. Let a second generation full of courage issue forth; let a people loving freedom come to growth. Let a beauty full of healing and strength of final clenching by the pulsing in our spirits and our blood. Let the martial songs by written, let the dirges disappear. Let a race of men now rise and take control.
--Margaret Walker
Friday, June 16, 2006
A Furry Wake-Up
So. I'm house sitting for this family that went to Greece for two weeks, and they have 5 cats and a dog. I like them all, especially the cats, because they just come whenever they want to, and never bug you or paw at your skinned knees and if you forget them outside then, oh well... they're cats. Anyway. The cats usually come to wake me up religiously between 6:45 and 7:15. If that fails -- and if you have ever tried to wake me up, you know how that can fail -- the big ass labrador JD comes in, pawing and barking at me. It's usually pretty hard to ignore him. So I have to get up, feed them all, and then try to get back to sleep. Which is always impossible, but I always try anyway.
In any case, last night was even more annoying, because they ALL decided that they wanted to sleep on my bed. I didn't have the energy to get up and close the door, and I was kind of having fun annoying them by moving my leg under the covers, and so I left them and finally fell asleep (purring cats do help you fall asleep). But then, when I was in the midst of beautiful dreams, I was woken up multiple times during the night. It was a cat trying to cuddle. With my FACE. Not cool. And then this morning, when JD walked in, I looked up and saw that all FIVE cats were curled up on the bed. I had to laugh. Five cats on the bed, one who had been schmoozing with my face all night long, big yellow lab JD, and my grumpy sleepy self all in one room at 6:45 in the morning. Crazy.
You can bet your ass I am closing that damn door tonight, though.
In any case, last night was even more annoying, because they ALL decided that they wanted to sleep on my bed. I didn't have the energy to get up and close the door, and I was kind of having fun annoying them by moving my leg under the covers, and so I left them and finally fell asleep (purring cats do help you fall asleep). But then, when I was in the midst of beautiful dreams, I was woken up multiple times during the night. It was a cat trying to cuddle. With my FACE. Not cool. And then this morning, when JD walked in, I looked up and saw that all FIVE cats were curled up on the bed. I had to laugh. Five cats on the bed, one who had been schmoozing with my face all night long, big yellow lab JD, and my grumpy sleepy self all in one room at 6:45 in the morning. Crazy.
You can bet your ass I am closing that damn door tonight, though.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Things I Like:
Also, if I have a daughter sometime in my life, I decided what I'm going to name her: Isabella Sofia.
- good espresso made by someone else in the morning just how I like it
- looking out of the window on rainy days
- when the Italian soccer team wins a game during the World Cup
- cuddling with the boy in the mornings
- getting up in the morning still feeling exhausted
- uppitty, snooty, and ridiculously sheltered people
- starbucks trying to create and eco-friendly image of itself (bah!)
- when a computer malfunction makes me lose my work!
Also, if I have a daughter sometime in my life, I decided what I'm going to name her: Isabella Sofia.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Shoot for the Moon
Yes. I'm still here. For all three of you who check this. And for myself, because, after all, don't we have to remind ourselves every once in awhile that we're alive? Feeling alive is an incredibly powerful thing. Makes us believe in the power that is vested in us, in the ability we have to change not only what we have become, but our environment as well.
Charleston is going through a beautiful period right now. Spoleto USA (a yearly arts festival) is here... and the city is filled with artists and performances of all kinds. One gets a sense that people are receptive, for once, to change. Yesterday I went to see a drag queen show. Even though it was an absolutely terrible performance (because she did nothing but lipsynch and after awhile, living in NY desensitizes you to the novelty of physical difference) the audience loved it. The crowd was basically made up of what the queen called "uptown white bitches," the same ones I've been talking about in my posts every now and again. Anyway, everytime she called them that, they squealed with delight. Like they were proud to be "uptown white bitches" and didn't realize that, (ahem!) it wasn't a compliment. In any case, point is, the "bitches" came out. They left their Mt. Pleasant bubble (although not quite, because the performance was in a ritzy club) and saw something new. Oh, and P.S. where they live really is called Mt. Pleasant.
Everytime we experience something new, it forces us to widen that narrow lense in which we enclose our reality. That is the hope, at least. For me, the widening experience came when I went to see a company of Flamenco dancers two nights ago. Their talent was incredible. Aside from being the best possible cardio workout in the world, this form of dance was one of the most graceful and emotional types I have ever experienced. I seriously sat wide-eyed in the audience, absolutely amazed by the ability that this small company had to move me with them. I left euphoric... but also painfully aware of my own mediocrity. And it made me realize once and for ever, that I want to do something with my life. My goal extends beyond personal happiness, it reaches into the realm of action. To be a mover, to make a difference. It's what I've always wanted to achieve, but in the process of "growing up," I think I substituted "realism" with "idealism" and it seems that has messed up my recipe. Not to worry though, I'm going to get it back, put it in, do what I need to do so that I will become all I can be. Because at the end of the day, I expect that of myself. So, here I go -- shooting for the moon, trusting that I will fall somewhere among the stars.
Charleston is going through a beautiful period right now. Spoleto USA (a yearly arts festival) is here... and the city is filled with artists and performances of all kinds. One gets a sense that people are receptive, for once, to change. Yesterday I went to see a drag queen show. Even though it was an absolutely terrible performance (because she did nothing but lipsynch and after awhile, living in NY desensitizes you to the novelty of physical difference) the audience loved it. The crowd was basically made up of what the queen called "uptown white bitches," the same ones I've been talking about in my posts every now and again. Anyway, everytime she called them that, they squealed with delight. Like they were proud to be "uptown white bitches" and didn't realize that, (ahem!) it wasn't a compliment. In any case, point is, the "bitches" came out. They left their Mt. Pleasant bubble (although not quite, because the performance was in a ritzy club) and saw something new. Oh, and P.S. where they live really is called Mt. Pleasant.
Everytime we experience something new, it forces us to widen that narrow lense in which we enclose our reality. That is the hope, at least. For me, the widening experience came when I went to see a company of Flamenco dancers two nights ago. Their talent was incredible. Aside from being the best possible cardio workout in the world, this form of dance was one of the most graceful and emotional types I have ever experienced. I seriously sat wide-eyed in the audience, absolutely amazed by the ability that this small company had to move me with them. I left euphoric... but also painfully aware of my own mediocrity. And it made me realize once and for ever, that I want to do something with my life. My goal extends beyond personal happiness, it reaches into the realm of action. To be a mover, to make a difference. It's what I've always wanted to achieve, but in the process of "growing up," I think I substituted "realism" with "idealism" and it seems that has messed up my recipe. Not to worry though, I'm going to get it back, put it in, do what I need to do so that I will become all I can be. Because at the end of the day, I expect that of myself. So, here I go -- shooting for the moon, trusting that I will fall somewhere among the stars.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
